


I clearly see the love toward me

by PhantomFlutist



Category: B1A4, VIXX
Genre: Chronic Illness, Diabetes, I don't think, M/M, References to Depression, but it's not as sad as the tags make it sound, this is a deeply personal piece just fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomFlutist/pseuds/PhantomFlutist
Summary: Sometimes Hongbin's life felt like endless hours of exhaustion and pain and frustration with no light at the end of the tunnel. But he was never alone, and the people around him would never stop reminding him of all the reasons he had to keep going.





	I clearly see the love toward me

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure I was ever going to post this piece because it's deeply, deeply personal and I felt like my own emotions regarding the topic of the fic kind of diminished my storytelling abilities. But I really needed it this week, and so my hope is that it will help someone else who's also struggling. I gave this Hongbin a lot of my own health issues and if they seem purposefully vague that's because 1) some of my symptoms are still undiagnosed and 2) I was kind of hoping that if I ever got up the courage to post it that it would resonate with more people if I never named his illness outright.
> 
> There's a lot of darkness and hopelessness in this fic but Hongbin is constantly surrounded by people who love him and just want him to be as happy and healthy as it is possible for him to be. Hopefully it's uplifting and not just sad. Stay safe, lovelies.

 

The day of the diagnosis was not the worst day of Hongbin’s life.

It was all the days after that, all the endless hours of pain and exhaustion and fighting pointlessly for something he couldn’t make himself want anymore that were his own personal hell.

No one else got it. He could count on one hand the number of times someone seemed truly empathetic when they learned about his illness. Most people feigned sympathy. Some people downright disbelieved him.

After all, he didn’t ‘look sick.’

“We have practice, Kong. Come on, get out of bed!” Hakyeon’s voice was loud and made spikes of pain lance through Hongbin’s head. He rolled over. Aches—in his knees, his shoulders, in the hip he’d been lying on—made themselves known, and he groaned.

It only made his head hurt more. He didn’t know why he bothered.

Hakyeon called again, “Come on, Hongbin. Get dressed. We have to go soon.”

Even the thought of practice made Hongbin sigh heavily. He squinted one eye open and snaked a hand out of the blankets to shake his phone until it displayed the time. It was 7:30. They had to leave for practice at eight. “Fifteen minutes,” he mumbled.

Hakyeon’s hand ended up in Hongbin’s hair and his voice softened. “You didn’t shower last night,” he reminded Hongbin.

Yeah, Hongbin knew. Even the thought of standing up for so long sucked. He couldn’t imagine lifting his arms that far to wash his hair. “Fine,” he grumbled, “five minutes.”

There was a moment, and then two, of complete silence. “Five minutes,” Hakyeon finally agreed. He slid Hongbin’s phone from his hand, fiddled with it, and then set it back down. He’d probably assigned the most annoying ringtone he could.

Hongbin closed his eyes anyway, telling himself that he was going to sleep well for the next five minutes. But the aches and pains in his body, the throbbing in his head, and the reminder of the responsibilities of the day that he couldn’t avoid were all too much for him to get any real rest.

All too soon, his phone started singing _Starlight_ , and Hongbin took a deep breath through his mouth so that he wouldn’t start crying.

 _Hakyeon would,_ he thought with resignation. He couldn’t even be mad when Hakyeon was just reminding him why he even did this in the first place.

The warmth of the shower soothed his sore body, at least. He let the water sluice over him, tilting his head back and enjoying the gentle massage against his scalp. It was not enough to make him feel well again, to make him feel human, but it was a comfort.

He didn’t shampoo his hair; his arms felt like they weighed ten thousand pounds each and he just couldn’t lift them so far for so long. He told himself that no one would notice anyway, and at least forced himself to make the effort of running a soapy cloth over his body.

 _There,_ he thought resignedly, _at least I won’t smell terrible._

He came out of the bathroom with his hair dripping uncontrollably into the towel he’d half-heartedly slung around his neck. He fully intended to throw a hat on and be done with it, risk of pneumonia in the winter weather be damned.

Seeing him standing there, shirtless and dripping, Taekwoon sighed (fond or frustrated, Hongbin wasn’t sure) and came over to take the towel himself and scrub it over Hongbin’s hair.

After a moment and a caress of gentle fingers through the strands to check how dry they were, Taekwoon murmured, “Go get dressed,” and then slipped back into the bathroom to hang the towel up.

Hongbin choked back an unreasonable sob and did as he was told.

They made it out the door with three minutes to spare, and Hongbin settled into his seat in the van with something like resignation. Maybe he would nap on the way to the studio.

His phone buzzed in his pocket before he’d even closed his eyes, and he considered ignoring it but he already knew who it was.

 **Chanshikkie; 7:59 AM**  
_You awake?_

**Hongbin; 8:00 AM  
** _Fuck you._

**Chanshikkie; 8:00 AM**  
_Love you too, Binnie. Have a good day!_

Sometimes, Hongbin hated that he was friends with Gong Chanshik. Other days, Chanshik was his lifeline.

\---

 _Hongbin made half-assed excuses and slipped into the bathroom before the Coordi-noona could pester him anymore. He_ couldn’t _do it right now. He didn’t know why he couldn’t, but he just couldn’t. He kind of wished that everything would go away and everyone would stop looking at him and his body would stop aching like he was eighty years old and plagued with arthritis. God, sometimes he wondered why he’d even wanted this job._

 _He was breathing hard when he rounded on the sinks, his hair disheveled, and of course he came face to face with Gong Chanshik, the B1A4 kid that Wonshik_ just _introduced him to. He dug around for something to say to Chanshik’s surprised face so that he would unfreeze._

_That was when Hongbin noticed the needle—a tiny plastic syringe filled with clear fluid, poised in Chanshik’s fingers like he was about to use it on himself. The way he had his shirt pulled up and some of the skin of his belly pinched between his fingers suggested the same. He seemed awfully confident in the way he held it._

_“Um,” Hongbin mumbled intelligently, unable to stop staring for some reason._

_Chanshik laughed awkwardly, waved the needle a tiny bit, and said, “Insulin.”_

_Hongbin felt all the worry drain at once. Of course, he hadn’t really suspected that Chanshik was taking illicit drugs, but he honestly hadn’t been sure_ what _he was taking until Chanshik actually said it. “You’re diabetic?” he asked._

_Chanshik nodded, looking down at the syringe instead of at Hongbin’s face. “Type 1,” he said, “since I was a kid.”_

_“That must suck,” Hongbin said. He leaned against the edge of the sink. The counter dug into his hip and made the ache there deeper, but he ignored it._

_“I guess,” Chanshik agreed, shrugging. “It’s been so long I’m just used to it now.”_

_Hongbin mumbled, “Still,” but didn’t say anything more._

_Chanshik had shifted to watching him with wide eyes. The needle was still full and he held it in midair like he wasn’t sure what to do with it._

_After a moment, Hongbin realized that Chanshik was probably waiting for him to leave. “Sorry,” he said, belatedly, “You probably don’t want me staring, do you?”_

_“No, it’s okay!” Chanshik said at once. “Just, it makes some people uncomfortable, so….” He trailed off, his eyes going back to his hands._

_“Don’t mind me,” Hongbin said, leaning to the side to rest his head against the cool tiled wall next to him and closing his eyes. “I’d go, but I’m hiding from the Coordi-noonas right now and if I leave they’ll catch me.”_

_Chanshik snorted, but Hongbin heard him shift away some and it was quiet for a moment. Then there were sounds of plastic against plastic and Hongbin opened his eyes to see Chanshik putting things away in a little zippered pouch with one hand while his other held a cotton ball to a little patch of exposed tummy._

_Hongbin watched him struggle with the zipper for a moment before he asked, “You need help?”_

_Chanshik’s head whipped up like he’d forgotten Hongbin was there, but then his face broke out into a smile. “It’s okay, I’ve got it,” he said._

_Hongbin shrugged. “Just an offer,” he muttered._

_“Ah, thank you,” Chanshik added as he finally got the zipper to close. “Just…lots of practice, you know? I’m used to it.”_

_“Yeah,” Hongbin said. “It’s fine. I’m not offended.”_

_Chanshik’s smile widened and he scooted closer, wrapping his right arm across Hongbin’s chest and resting his chin on Hongbin’s shoulder. “I like you,” he confessed. “You’re kind of cute.”_

_Hongbin felt himself blush to the roots of his hair and opened his mouth to respond, only to find he had nothing to say to that. He closed it again and just stood there instead._

_Chanshik gave him a little squeeze and then pulled away, finally pulling the cotton ball away to check the injection site for bleeding. Seeming satisfied, he looked back up and his face sobered. “Look, um…don’t tell anyone, okay? The fans don’t know yet, that I’m….” He waved at himself, as if to encompass the whole of his illness._

_“Yeah, of course,” Hongbin agreed. He understood secrets, in their profession. Almost every idol had one, some of them more important, more carefully kept than others. There were things that every person held close to their heart, refused to share with the public. Not everything belonged to the fans._

_“Awesome!” Chanshik beamed again, showing off a row of perfect white teeth. “I’ll see you around, Hongbin.”_

_He practically skipped out of the room. Hongbin didn’t know then, but Chanshik would later become one of his best friends, and the only person who really understood him when he got his own diagnosis._

_In short, they would inevitably share two secrets—and Chanshik would one day be Hongbin’s lifeline._

\---

Wonshik slumped to the floor next to Hongbin, his back to the mirrored wall, and commented, “You look like you could use some coffee.”

Hongbin grunted and kept his face buried in his drawn-up knees. Light and sound both hurt and his left temple was throbbing. What he _needed_ was for everyone to go away.

Wonshik didn’t hear his silent plea, and instead said, “You want some water or something, at least?”

Hongbin shook his head a little, but even that hurt so he stopped.

Wonshik sighed at him and got up, apparently leaving Hongbin to his misery. Good; he really didn’t feel like dealing with people anyway.

A couple of minutes later, something cold pressed against Hongbin’s throbbing temple. He shivered. It felt good though, dulled the pain some and made precious relief flood him for a moment. He finally pulled his face from his knees, squinting up at Wonshik, who still held the water bottle against Hongbin’s face.

“Fresh from the fridge,” Wonshik said, his smile soft.

Hongbin dredged up a smile from somewhere to return it, and reached up to accept the water.

Wonshik let him have it and then dropped down beside him again. He nudged close to Hongbin’s side, subtly helping him stay upright.

Sighing, Hongbin fought the water bottle open and took a sip. The cool water felt good on his throat, so he took another and another until he’d drained half the bottle. Then he let his head sink down until it was resting on Wonshik’s shoulder and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Wonshik’s hand landed in his hair and massaged gently over Hongbin’s scalp. “No problem,” he replied, his voice turning soft the way it did when he spoke to Taekwoon when he was in one of his moods.

They sat there like that, not speaking, until the break was over and Hakyeon called them all back to practice.

\---

Hongbin was shivering uncontrollably, and he wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, crossing his arms close to preserve body heat, trying desperately not to let anyone see how hard he was struggling.

“You okay?” Sanghyuk asked, slinging his arm around Hongbin’s shoulders like he always did. It made the ache in Hongbin’s upper back turn into a sharp, stabbing pain, but Sanghyuk always ran hot so Hongbin endured it in favor of the warmth he could feel radiating off the younger man.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hongbin insisted, trying to be subtle about tucking himself closer to Sanghyuk.

Hyuk just laughed, wrapping his arms around Hongbin overtop of his own, rubbing Hongbin’s hands briskly until they looked less blue. With Sanghyuk’s chest pressed against Hongbin’s back, he felt himself beginning to thaw. He selfishly hoped that Sanghyuk would just stay right there until they got called for filming.

Off to their left, someone wolf-whistled and then several voices started cackling. Hongbin didn’t turn to look, but he heard the squawks of protest that meant someone was serving several well-deserved neck chops and then Taekwoon sidled up next to them.

“Hey, Hyung,” Sanghyuk said, dropping his cheek to the back of Hongbin’s head as he turned to look at Taekwoon.

Taekwoon nodded at him and examined Hongbin, his eyes too knowing. “Okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Hongbin said again. Maybe if he said it enough times it would come true.

The look in Taekwoon’s eyes said that he didn’t believe Hongbin, but it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t keep asking. Hongbin could only deny it for so long before he broke down.

Taekwoon didn’t say anything more, but he stayed next to them until they were called and glared at anyone who dared to comment on the fact that Sanghyuk still hadn’t let go of Hongbin.

\---

Hongbin curled up under the covers of his bed and pretended that he couldn’t hear the others moving around outside his door still. It wasn’t even his turn to shower yet, but he didn’t care. He was exhausted and his entire body felt a hundred times too heavy and at some point in the day the pain in his knees had gone from slightly achy and inconvenient to so painful there were tears in his eyes.

He’d been doing really good at not crying lately, but he closed his eyes and felt a tear trickle down the side of his face and knew that there was nothing that he could do about it.

He lifted his phone, hand dropping on the pillow next to his face, and stared at Chanshik’s contact info for all of half a second before he’d made a decision.

 **Hongbin; 9:57 PM**  
_Everything sucks._

He waited, impatient, just staring at his phone as the screen went dark and Chanshik still hadn’t texted back. His vision blurred further with tears and he willed himself to breathe steadily and felt more wet trickle down to soak into his pillowcase.

**Chanshikkie; 10:03 PM** _  
I know. You wanna talk about it?_

**Hongbin; 10:04 PM** _  
Not really. Texting is hard._

No response for a second, and then his phone started to ring. Hongbin swiped to answer and then put it on speakerphone so he wouldn’t have to hold the phone up.

 _“Hey,”_ Chanshik’s voice said. He was talking the way he did when he was worried that Hongbin was going to fall apart. _“You okay?”_

“Not really,” Hongbin admitted. A tear fell from his right eye and slid across the bridge of his nose to soak into the lashes of his left.

Shuffling on the other end of the line, and the click of a door, then Chanshik asked, “ _Is it something specific, or just life in general?”_

“All of the above,” Hongbin said. The tears were kind of choking him, his voice raw. He knew Chanshik could probably hear it, but it didn’t matter. Chanshik wouldn’t judge him. “I fucked up so much today, and we kept having to re-film shit, but the more times we did it the more tired I got and the more I fucked up. I’m not sure we actually got any footage that would work.”

 _“They’ll make it,”_ Chanshik promised. _“Like when Dongwoo-hyung’s knee was fucked up and he was struggling with the dance moves. They got what they could and they made it look good. It’ll be fine.”_

Hongbin took a deep, shaky breath. He told himself that Chanshik was right. “I just wish I wasn’t such a shit human being. I wish I could do something right for once.”

 _“Hey, don’t say that,”_ Chanshik admonished gently. _“You’ve got this. One day at a time, remember?”_

Hongbin knew. He knew that he was supposed to give himself some slack when he was having bad days, that he couldn’t nitpick every little thing. It was hard to remember sometimes, when it felt like everything he did was the wrong thing, that he wasn’t capable of things that he learned to do ages ago.

 _“Breathe for me, yeah?”_ Chanshik said. It was only then that Hongbin realized that he was sobbing brokenly, each breath juddering in his throat. _“You’re gonna be okay. Tomorrow is a new day and you’ve got so many people who love you. We’ll help you get through this.”_

It didn’t feel like he ever would get through it. After all, Hongbin would have this illness for the rest of his life. He knew that if he tried, if he let himself get used to it, if he gave himself some slack when he needed it, that he would eventually learn to live with his limitations. The problem was that he didn’t want to _have_ limitations. He wanted to be as strong and able and energetic as his bandmates were.

Hongbin reminded himself that not everyone was the same and let Chanshik’s soft voice talk him down until he was breathing calmly and the tears had abated. He really could do this, he promised himself. He had people behind him who believed in him. He had the ability to get through this.

There was a quiet knock at his door, and Jaehwan calling, “Kong, it’s your turn in the shower.”

Hongbin considered ignoring it, letting Sanghyuk take his turn, but apparently it had been loud enough that Chanshik heard over the phone. _“You should go clean up so you can get some sleep,”_ he said. For a moment there was only the sound of his gentle breathing on the other end of the line, and then he said, _“I love you, Hongbin. I know it’s hard. I know you didn’t ask for any of this. But we’ve got you, okay? I’m right here and you don’t have to do this alone.”_

Hongbin let out another broken sob, but eventually he agreed to get up, to go shower so he could sleep properly, without makeup clogging his pores and dirt clinging to his skin and making him miserable.

When he came out of his room, Jaehwan was hovering in the hallway. He didn’t say a word about the tear tracks on Hongbin’s face, just stepped forward and pulled Hongbin into a brief, strawberry-scented hug. As he pulled away, his lips gently brushed the tearstains from Hongbin’s temple.

It took all Hongbin had in him to fight back a sob at the gesture. Sometimes he forgot how much they all loved him.

\---

“Hongbin-ssi?”

Hongbin blinked back to reality with guilt clawing at his stomach. They were in the middle of an interview and he’d promised them that he could do it but he was so _fucking_ tired today and there was this fog in his brain that made concentrating on anything near impossible. “Sorry,” he said, sheepish, scratching at his neck self-consciously. “What was the question?”

“Your favorite song,” Hakyeon repeated for him before the interviewer had a chance. He patted Hongbin’s knee in something like consolation. “On this album, which song you like the most and why.”

“Ah!” Hongbin said, and started in on his (mostly stock) answer, smiling like he hadn’t just been a million miles away. He wasn’t even sure what he’d been thinking about, just that it hadn’t been the interview.

As he finished his answer, someone behind him settled a hand between his shoulder blades and started rubbing gently. Hongbin guessed it was probably Taekwoon, but he didn’t turn around to check. He knew that if it was Taekwoon, he would stop as soon as Hongbin acknowledged that it was happening.

He stayed still, and that hand remained on his back for the rest of the interview, giving him something to focus on and grounding him in the present. Definitely Taekwoon then, but Hongbin still didn’t turn until the interview was over and they’d risen to thank all the staff.

Taekwoon’s face gave nothing away, but he wrapped a hand around the back of Hongbin’s neck briefly, solid and warm and comforting, and Hongbin knew anyway.

\---

Hongbin and Chanshik didn’t always see each other a lot. It wasn’t very often that their groups were promoting at the same time, and when they were there wasn’t always time to interact. Sometimes neither of them had promotions, but then sometimes they also had other activities that required their time. If they were lucky, they managed to meet once a month. But they’d gone much longer than that a few times.

So when Hongbin got a call, “Hey, can you meet?” he always went. It didn’t matter how shit he felt or what horrible thing had happened that day, if he didn’t have anything scheduled he went to see Chanshik.

This time it was nearly midnight, but Hongbin didn’t have any activities until afternoon the next day, and so as soon as he got the call he was already gathering his things and putting on shoes.

Chanshik laughed at him every time, when he asked, “Can you meet?” and Hongbin replied, “I’m on my way.”

They met at a restaurant that was open late, ordered three servings of samgyupsal and a bottle of soju to split. The last thing either of them really needed was to get drunk, but a few drinks couldn’t hurt—not much, anyway.

“You need to go to the bathroom?” Hongbin asked as they waited for the Auntie to bring their order.

Chanshik shook his head. “I’m all good,” he promised. “I did it in the car before I came in.”

Hongbin furrowed his brow at Chanshik. A car wasn’t exactly the most sterile environment in the world. Chanshik knew better than to do injections there unless he absolutely had to.

Laughing at the look on Hongbin’s face, Chanshik explained, “They just switched me to an insulin pen rather than the syringe. Fewer pieces, less prep, and it’s not as big a deal if I just use hand sanitizer instead of washing.”

“You suck,” Hongbin told him.

The samgyupsal Auntie came back with their soju and dropped two shot glasses on the table to go with it. They thanked her profusely and she just grumbled at them and swept away, off to deal with other customers.

Chanshik’s deft fingers made quick work of the bottle’s cap, and then he poured Hongbin a generous glass. “I know,” he agreed. He filled his own glass and lifted it to toast Hongbin.

Hongbin tossed it back and enjoyed the burn of the alcohol down his throat. A few more of those and he might feel a little more human.

“You doing any better?” Chanshik asked. He swirled his glass a little on the table, but his eyes were on Hongbin.

Hongbin could only shrug helplessly. “It’s all kind of the same, I guess? There are days when I’m just tired and then days where everything hurts and I can’t even fathom getting out of bed.”

“You always do, though,” Chanshik pointed out softly. “You haven’t missed a single activity.”

“I don’t know how,” Hongbin admitted.

Chanshik reached out for his hand, held it and looked Hongbin in the eye. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said. “I’ve lost count of the number of times that you’ve told me you want to give up, but you haven’t. Every day is another victory.”

Hongbin felt emotion welling up, clogging his throat and making his eyes wet. He’d needed to hear that. “It doesn’t feel like it, usually,” he said.

“I know,” Chanshik replied. “But I’ll remind you as many times as you need me to.”

Hongbin didn’t think he’d ever have the words to express his gratitude for having Chanshik in his life.

\---

“Fifteen minutes, Kong,” Hakyeon called from the doorway of Hongbin’s bedroom.

Hongbin waved at him but didn’t look up, just kept staring at the little white pill in his hand. The stupid fucking pills felt pointless. He didn’t feel any different whether he was on them or not. He wondered why he was even still taking them.

“Everything okay?” Hakyeon asked. Fuck, he was still there.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hongbin said. He popped the pill in his mouth, swallowed it down with the recommended full glass of water and tried to tell himself that it would help this time.

He was so fucking tired. He just wanted to go back to bed.

Hakyeon stepped forward for a hug as Hongbin stood up. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Hongbin grumbled, but he didn’t try to pull out of Hakyeon’s arms. It felt warm there, and safe. He knew it was probably stupid but he really wanted his mom, and Hakyeon wasn’t exactly that but he was the closest thing here in the dorms.

“I know it’s hard right now. But it’ll get better,” Hakyeon promised.

He didn’t know shit, but Hongbin let himself pretend for a minute that Hakyeon was right, that he would get better. It was a nice thought.

When Hakyeon finally released him and Hongbin attempted to follow him out of the room, pain lanced through his left knee and it tried to collapse under him. He swayed and nearly fell, but managed to keep himself upright. Hakyeon didn’t even notice.

So much for getting better.

\---

“Hey, Hongbin, it’s lunch time,” Jaehwan said, kicking the side of Hongbin’s shoe lightly. The tiny jolt went through Hongbin’s leg like an electric shock and he held back a wince with practiced ease.

Not even bothering to pull out his headphones or look up at Jaehwan, Hongbin mumbled, “I’m not hungry.” It was only a half-truth. He was actually starving, but even the thought of food was nauseating right then.

“You still need to eat,” Jaehwan retorted without missing a beat. He wasn’t harsh about it, but Hongbin still felt the words like stinging barbs in his flesh. He didn’t blame Jaehwan; this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Groaning, frustrated with his own body and reluctant to do what he was told because he was too tired and too in pain and just generally too miserable to deal with anything right then, Hongbin pulled himself up from his chair and over to the others.

They were all crowded around a little coffee table in the dressing room where they’d taken up residence before a music program. They spent a lot of days huddled into too-small spaces, living practically on top of each other, sitting squashed together on a single couch because that was the way it had always been.

Hongbin sunk onto the floor next to the table, only barely acknowledging Shinwoo-hyung when he scolded Hongbin to watch his stage pants. If they got dirty it would be his own fault.

One of the coordi noonas threw a blanket at him, probably to go under his butt to protect his clothes. Hongbin left it where it landed, draped over his shoulder and half in his face. There was a little bit of empty space on the table just in front of him, and he allowed himself to fall forward until his forehead rested against painted wood. It wasn’t comfortable, but at least he didn’t have to hold himself upright anymore.

Someone sighed, “Hongbin.” Someone else patted his shoulder and admonished him to eat.

Finally the blanket was lifted off of him and hands smacked lightly at his butt until he lifted it enough for the blanket to slide beneath. Thin fingers stroked the back of his neck. Hongbin sighed and stayed where he was.

Someone who was not the person petting him lifted his hand for him and put chopsticks in it. “Eat,” Wonshik’s voice said, soft and deep and gentle. The sound went to Hongbin’s gut, feeding the guilt that constantly built inside him because they shouldn’t _have_ to deal with this. He was an adult who should be able to take care of himself. His bandmates shouldn’t be responsible for making sure he ate and bathed and functioned.

With effort, he pulled his head off the table. He didn’t quite manage completely upright, but slouching at the table and slowly shoving whatever food was nearest into his face was going to have to be sufficient.

None of the others said anything more to him, not even when he stopped after a dozen mouthfuls and laid his head back down on the table. The hand—Hakyeon, apparently, sitting to his right—returned to the back of his neck, and Hongbin let himself enjoy the touch and stopped thinking about anything else for a little while.

\---

Chanshik found Hongbin in the bathroom the next time around. He must have come looking, because Hongbin had purposefully hidden in the bathroom on the far side of the building that hardly anyone used.

Chanshik didn’t even bother knocking on the stall door, he just pushed it open and stepped in. In hindsight, Hongbin should have locked it if he wanted to be left alone.

Hongbin stayed where he was, curled up against the tiled wall, sitting on a floor that probably hadn’t been cleaned in days. He was wearing his stage outfit already and didn’t care. It felt like his whole body was collapsing under the pressure of this comeback. He didn’t want to go back out there.

Sighing, Chanshik sunk down into a crouch next to him, more careful about his own clothes than Hongbin was. “They start airing in twenty minutes,” he said.

“I’m aware,” Hongbin said, and then buried his face in his knees. He’d barely made it through rehearsal earlier. His stupid knee had started protesting again during their last run-through and he wasn’t sure that he could even stand up, let alone dance.

“They can’t go on without you,” Chanshik pointed out, like that made all the difference. Hongbin fucking knew that he would ruin everything if he bailed on them. They weren’t prepared to do the choreo without him. They hadn’t practiced like that.

Chanshik’s hand landed in Hongbin’s hair and he stroked slowly over it several times before either of them spoke again.

“I don’t want to be here,” Hongbin mumbled.

Chanshik sighed. “I know,” he said. “But you have to be, so what can I do to make it easier?”

Hongbin didn’t know. He felt like the entire world was just going to implode and he was going to be buried under the rubble. Every single fucking thing felt wrong, and he didn’t know why or how to fix it. He wasn’t sure it could be fixed.

So they sat in silence for a while, Hongbin trying to breathe while Chanshik petted him. It was nice, just the two of them in such a quiet space. Hongbin thought that he could get used to that, to being around Chanshik all the time. He missed him when they weren’t able to get together for long periods of time.

“Let’s go on a date, you and me,” Chanshik whispered, almost like he was hoping Hongbin wouldn’t hear over the sound of his own breathing.

Hongbin lifted his head from his knees, staring into Chanshik’s face. Chanshik’s eyes were wide and earnest, his smile wry. He was, Hongbin could tell, seconds from playing it off as a joke. “You mean it?” Hongbin asked.

Chanshik’s lips quirked up a little more on one side than the other. “Yeah,” he said, lifting the hand that had been on Hongbin’s head to rub at his own neck instead. “If you want to.”

Hongbin smiled at him, the first real, genuine smile that he’d been able to scrounge up in a while. “I want to,” he replied.

In response, Chanshik’s face glowed with the brightness of a thousand suns, and he said, “Good,” and let it be.

They sat together for a while longer, waited until the show was nearly starting and their managers were no doubt beginning to panic before they extricated themselves from the little toilet stall and made their way back to their dressing rooms.

And if their fingers were linked together the whole time, if they were reluctant to let go even as they entered the more populated areas of the building, no one would really question it. After all, everyone knew they were good friends. Everyone could sense that Chanshik was Hongbin’s lifeline.

\---

Hongbin woke feeling…not refreshed, not _good_ , but better than he’d felt in a long time. His body was stiff but not painful and there wasn’t a headache already pounding behind his temples. It was a good day, he decided.

He silenced his poor vibrating phone alarm and checked his notifications with his face still half squished into the pillow. He had a bunch of emails, a couple of his game apps were whining at him, and kakaotalk informed him that he had fifty-three unread messages.

When he opened the app, fifty-one of those messages were from Chanshik.

 **Chanshikkie; 1:54 AM**  
_Hey. You’re probably in bed, but I can’t sleep and I know you turn notifications off at night so I’m gonna message you until I get tired, kay?_

 **Chanshikkie; 1:55 AM**  
_I was thinking about you today._

 **Chanshikkie; 1:56 AM**  
_That’s not weird, is it? I hope not._

 **Chanshikkie; 1:58 AM**  
_Is it too early in our relationship to say I love you? Because I know we haven’t even officially had our first date yet but I really, really do._

There were more messages after that, Chanshik moving on to talking about his day and his bandmates’ antics and his concerns about whether Dongwoo’s knee was actually healed properly. It was all so normal, and rationally Hongbin knew it wasn’t that big a deal. They’d both said ‘I love you’ a lot of times, but it’d just never…meant what Chanshik meant when he said it this time.

Hongbin finally got through the rest of the messages and the dark, grainy photos of Chanshik’s bandmates sleeping and paused at the last message.

 **Chanshikkie; 3:03 AM**  
_I should really try to sleep. Goodnight, Kong! I love you!_

The words still sent a little thrill through Hongbin, a little jolt of energy and happiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He hid his blush in his pillow and took a few slow, deep breaths, and then picked his phone up again and sent a message back.

 **Hongbin; 7:03 AM**  
_Good morning. Love you too._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know that ending was probably a bit weird. I don't know if I'm ever going to continue this fic. Maybe at some point, probably when I most need it. I wrote a lot of this while struggling with depression and the limits of my own body, and it was truly a therapeutic experience for me. Thank you so much for reading it, and again, I hope that it's helped you in some way. Hopefully I'll see you again soon, friends.
> 
>  
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://phantomflutist.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PhantomFlutist) for writing updates, spoilers, ranting, and more!


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